In stillness we ha' words to hear,
An' sheaepes to zee in darkest night,
An' tongues a-lost can hail us near,
An' souls a-gone can smile in zight;
When Fancy now do wander back
To years a-spent, an' bring to mind
Zome happy tide a-left behind
In' weaesten life's slow-beaten track.
When feaeden leaves do drip wi' rain,
Our thoughts can ramble in the dry;
When Winter win' do zweep the plain
We still can have a zunny sky.
Vor though our limbs be winter-wrung,
We still can zee, wi' Fancy's eyes,
The brightest looks ov e'th an' skies,
That we did know when we wer young.
In pain our thoughts can pass to eaese,
In work our souls can be at play,
An' leaeve behind the chilly leaese
Vor warm-air'd meaeds o' new mow'd hay.
When we do vlee in Fancy's flight
Vrom daily ills avore our feaece,
An' linger in zome happy pleaece
Ov me'th an' smiles, an' warmth an' light.